


Five Times Matt Saracen Thought He Knew Better Than Julie Taylor (And One Time He Didn't)

by do_not_confess



Series: Five Times fic for Matt and Julie [2]
Category: Friday Night Lights
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-06
Updated: 2013-07-06
Packaged: 2017-12-17 21:10:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,307
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/871996
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/do_not_confess/pseuds/do_not_confess
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She looks smaller than he remembers but all of Dillon does, kinda, coming back.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Five Times Matt Saracen Thought He Knew Better Than Julie Taylor (And One Time He Didn't)

**Author's Note:**

> Old fic originally posted on livejournal. Has a companion fic from Julie's POV. Written during season 2 and hence slightly AU.

i.

“Let’s not do this.” 

It’s probably the hardest thing he’s ever said, what with her lying underneath him so soft and sweet smelling and her hair all around her. His hard on is straining against his jeans but even though she tries to reassure him _no, no, no, no, no, we said we would_ he knows she doesn’t want this because he loves Julie Taylor. And then her face floods with a look of pure relief and he knows he’s done the right thing.

 

ii.

She says it’s not him but he knows better. It’s the Swede. He can see it in her eyes and when he calls her on it, she admits it too. It takes all the restraint he can muster to swallow down the rock he seems to have in his throat and then he stutters some sorta goodbye like an idiot. 

He wonders if he’ll ever have an ounce of confidence around her.

 

iii.

She says she’s sorry. Like, really sorry. For the whole thing with the Swede and how it all went down, _like Matt so, so sorry_. She smiles shyly and is all _Can’t we like, just be friends again?_

He knows better though. She’s just sorry she’s alone that’s all.

 

iv.

It’s junior year and he’s just gotten over the whole Carlotta thing. They’re at this football party and he’s flown from a flock of rally girls into a bedroom upstairs when Julie storms in. 

“Oh - um – I’m, I’m sorry, I didn’t know anyone was in here. I’ll- I’ll just go-”

She looks like she’s been crying. He gets up from the bed and touches her arm. She doesn’t meet his eye and her hair’s all around her like a curtain.

“Julie - hey, are - are you alright?”

She nods and sniffs but he knows it's not true. 

“Come on, you know you can talk to me, right?”

He walks her to the bed and they sit down. His palms are sweaty against his jean clad thighs and he wants to touch her so bad but he knows that’d just be weird. They haven’t really talked since – he can’t remember since when. So instead he grabs a box of kleenex from the nightstand and hands her a tissue.

“It’s nothing,” she wipes the tracks of mascara from her face. “It’s just – ”, her breath hitches and then she looks up at him. “Why do guys have to be such jerks?”

He’s not sure what to say to that, really. Most of them are but as far as he can tell she has a a bit of a knack to pick 'em out, too.

“What - what happened, Julie?”

“It’s nothing. It’s stupid. I’m just stupid.” 

She pulls up her shoulders defiantly, keeping him from wrapping an arm around her like he wanted to. She tilts her face up, chin all angry and he can see her eyes now, huge and shiny with tears and then she grabs his face and pulls him down for a kiss.

At first it’s kinda sloppy but then – it’s- he’s- he’s wanted this for so long and she’s so soft to the touch and it feels so good and then her tongue is running along his bottom lip, sucking it in and they’re on the bed and she’s pulling at his shirt, _up, up, up, please Matt, please_ and she’s arching up against him and it feels like he’s travelled back in time and they meet in this frenzy of longing and lust and regret. And it feels so good, it’s just, it’s not how this was supposed to be happening what with her all angry and sad and him trying to get something back and he never wanted it to be like this, it just can’t be like this, he wanted this to mean something, with Julie, especially with Julie and now they just can’t – he’s gotta stop this before - she tries to wiggle her hand into his pants, past his belt buckle. 

“Wait, Julie – w-wait.”

She looks at him, lips red and swollen in her face, so open. “What?” 

“This – we can’t do this.”

She smiles and her nose crinkles up and it’s so, so hard not to give into her then.

“Of course we can. Don’t you- don’t you want it?” 

Her hand sneaks a little lower. The smile turns knowing.

“Julie- wait, hold on- Julie!” He snaps and pulls her hands out of his pants and sits up on the bed, kneeling, dick straining against the fabric so bad it hurts. 

“I just can’t.”

She looks hurt and suddenly much smaller and younger, as if he’s somehow let the air out of her or something.

He tries to think of words to salvage this, this screwed up thing they’ve become. To tell her he wants to but can't. 

“And -and you don’t want this. You don’t.” 

“Right,” she says, voice full of something he can't place and she gets up and adjusts her bra straps, back towards him. 

“Right.” 

“Look – I’m-I’m sorry Julie.” 

“Yeah.” She breathes but he can’t see her face. “Me too.”

And then, before he can say anything else, she’s out of the door.

 

v. 

He sees her again after 5 years at homecoming – he’s kinda glad he doesn’t have to be the ex-QB in the spotlight, that job’s covered by Smash alright. Would make sense with him actually turning pro. He spots her over a bobbing sea of heads and people, standing next to her father but before he can walk over there’s Buddy Garrity, hand on his back and introducing him to random people left and right. He tries to be polite but it’s just weird being sold as the golden boy he really isn’t. He stares at Julie. She’s somehow taken on Coach’s stern look but when she sees him she smiles. 

She looks smaller than he remembers but all of Dillon does, kinda, coming back. Her hair is different as well, shorter but nice. She tells him about her job at the museum in Charlotte and how she likes life up there but misses Texas every once in a while – her drawl creeps in sometimes when she’s tired or happy.

He takes her to Applebee's even though it’s lame and he’s not fooling himself what this is - just catchin' up with an old friend. It feels like forever ago they were anything different. Her nose still crunches up when she laughs at him – well at least he’s still able to make her laugh - but he wishes she wasn’t so beautiful, that’d make things easier somehow.

He brings her back to the hotel Coach’s staying in, still not fooling himself. She’s got her life and he’s got his and this isn’t goin’ anywhere, just a little trip down memory lane.

He likes to think he’s smoother now than he was then but they bump awkwardly into each other as he’s trying to open the car door for her and she’s getting out – at least he’s got a decent ride now. He walks her up to the front porch, stalling, and feels like 16 again. It always comes down to this with her.

“You alright?” she asks.

“Yeah, yeah," he says and forces himself to get his hands out of the pockets of his jacket. "It’s just - it feels like coach’s lurking somewhere. I’m waitin’ for him to jump out and yell at me for gettin’ ya home late.”

He grins and then realizes what he’s said and how stupid that must've sounded - and then she laughs in that soft way that lights her whole face up. He’s not fooling himself this could go somewhere. Right.

It’s only when she cups his face with her small hands and gets up on her toes to kiss him that he realizes that he, Matt Saracen, might be wrong, very wrong.


End file.
